Punch-Drunk in Love
by ladylibre
Summary: ONE-SHOT, COMPLETE! The first time I saw her, she punched me in the face. And my life would never be the same. This is the (crossover) story of Edward Cullen and Bonnie Bennett.


****Disclaimer:** **The author does not own any publicly recognizable entities herein. No copyright infringement is intended.****

 **Soooo... Sarah and Cappie put together this amazingly fun "Anything Goes" fic contest, and I got inspired by one of the prompts in the FB Group and wrote this little one-shot Twilight/Vampire Diaries crossover...**

 **...and Packy selected me for the "Best of Both Worlds" award!**

 **(SO. FREAKIN. EXCITED. RIGHT. NOW.)**

 **Winners were announced tonight, and I just couldn't wait to share this story with you. It's my first one-shot, my first crossover, and my first Bonward fic, and I really hope you give it a shot!**

 **Thanks again to all the ladies from the Anything Goes Contest, to jmolly for prereading as always, and very special, bone-deep thanks to Sarah for this breathtaking banner. I am still in awe!**

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 **Story summary: The first time I saw her, she punched me in the face. And my life would never be the same. This is the (crossover) story of Edward Cullen and Bonnie Bennett.**

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 **PUNCH-DRUNK IN LOVE**

 **Edward's POV**

The first time I saw her, she punched me in the face.

I can't blame her, really, because I was somewhere I shouldn't have been, doing something someone told me not to do.

Something I would never, ever undo.

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

You don't know who I am, who she is, or why any of this matters.

 _If_ any of this matters.

Neither do I, if I'm being honest.

Am I being honest?

" _You're being an ass,"_ she thinks, and I snort a laugh.

" _Mind your business,"_ I think back to her.

" _You_ _are_ _my business,"_ she replies, and I can't believe I walked so blindly into that one. This time, she laughs, the rich sound warming me from the inside out. She's got a laugh on her, and she uses it on me, at me, quite often.

But again, I'm getting ahead of myself. I was supposed to be telling you about that time she punched me in the face.

"The first time," she says aloud, crossing the room to invade my physical space. She already owns my heart, my soul, and whatever remains of my sanity, so why wouldn't I allow her to straddle me as she does right now?

She crosses her arms behind my neck, tilting her head to study my eyes. Her delicate finger strokes my cheek, and my lids flutter shut, helpless as ever under her touch.

Her healing, life-giving touch.

"Is there anything else you'd say?" I ask as she presses her bare bosom against me. "You know, since you're here?"

She looks up and away, pretending to think it over. "Yes. Make sure you tell them the truth about us."

"All of it?"

"Yes." She kisses me quick and hard on the mouth. "And don't make me look bad."

"Impossible."

"Good answer." She rises from my lap, and I give a hearty swat to her lower-most assets as she sashays away. I stare after her until she disappears from view, gradually returning to the mental task at hand. I flip through the acres of memories in my mind, searching for a logical starting point.

"I punched you in the face," she calls out from the other room.

Right.

Okay.

Once upon a time, Bonnie Bennett punched me in the face...

 ***** PUNCH-DRUNK IN LOVE *****

...while I was in Mystic Falls, Virginia visiting an old friend.

And I use the term loosely.

Damon Salvatore and I came from very different worlds—his far more human and believable than mine—and had crossed paths in Europe a few times over the years. Our encounters were often more awkward than amiable, as he lived on human blood and I was abstinent, but we had enough in common to make those encounters worth repeating. I found pleasure in talking with Damon about classical music, English literature, and other fine things, whereas Damon found humor in my sparkling physicality...and my inability to sleep...and my diet.

Come to think of it, Damon found humor in just about everything about me.

But for all his potentially aggravating characteristics, Damon had one I deeply envied: he relished being a vampire. He lived for the speed and power, the heightened senses and abilities. He bore no trace of the guilt that shrouded my life in shame and secrecy, and though I couldn't begin to understand how, I was deeply fascinated by its implications.

Hence, my visit to Mystic Falls.

The Salvatore Boarding House hadn't changed since my last visit some thirty-odd years ago, save the addition of new shrubs beside the entrance and one new window in the East wing.

Somehow I knew Damon was the reason behind its replacement.

I entered the mansion without knocking, unsurprised to find the living room empty. The fire roared in the hearth, the opulent wood was polished to a shine, and the decanters on the far table were up to their necks in his preferred amber liquid.

And I thought I smelled...cheese?

As I waved a hand in front of my face to dispel the stench, a rush of wind sent me flying into the nearest couch, and I sprang up with a growl.

"So much for telepathy." Damon smirked. "Thought you'd've heard me coming."

"I was distracted by the noxious fumes." I straightened my clothes. "What is that?"

"Chili cheese fries." He strolled toward the kitchen, and I followed with a wrinkled nose. "A tried-and-true recipe vetted by Julia Child herself."

"Julia Child ate chili cheese fries?"

"She did that night. Now there's a woman who could hold her liquor." He picked up a half-empty glass on the counter, tipping it my way. "And in this corner..."

"I need your help."

"I gathered that from your oh-so-lengthy voicemail. Don't they text up there in Spatula?"

"Forks. And no. We prefer doing things the old-fashioned way."

"You like it. I love it." He drained his glass and opened the cabinet above the stove to retrieve another full bottle. "So what's the 4-1-1, hon?"

I told Damon about the new girl in school, giving him adequate time to mock the idea of me in high school for the umpteenth time. But by the time I supplied all the details, he was beside himself with laughter.

"Let me get this straight." He wiped tears of amusement from his eyes. "This Bella Swan is wickedly observant and has a natural scent that drives you to drink, but you don't know what she's thinking because she's also immune to your gift?"

"That's about the size of it, yes."

Damon's blue eyes danced with delight. "Oh, this is better than Stefan with his brooding and bunnies! Keep talking."

"There's nothing else to say, really. My ordinary existence is complicated enough without this infuriating human getting in the way of my..."

"Is she hot?"

I blinked at him. "What?"

"Is she hot?"

"I don't see what that has to do with anything."

"When there's a woman involved, the degree of hotness is everything." He swirled his drink in the glass. "And based on your level of frustration, I'd say she was pretty damn hot."

"She is modestly attractive, yes."

"So slip her the ol' stiff-and-slick and be done with it."

I choked on air. "What?"

"Edward, if this chick is as hot and curious as you say, then this problem has a simple solution. Take her to bed, give her a night she'll never forget, and I guarantee her thoughts won't matter so much anymore."

I dropped my gaze to the table, grimacing. "There isn't enough time in the world to express how dreadful an idea that is."

"Ohhh, right. Forgot you were a choir boy."

I blew out a harsh breath through my nostrils, refusing to lose my cool. "Bedding Bella is out, Damon."

" _Bedding Bella_." Damon whistled. "Sounds like the name of a feel-good, quadruple-X film."

"There are only three Xs."

"Oh, Choir Boy. You gotta get out more often." He clicked his tongue in sympathy, his face brightening when the timer dinged on the stove. "Lunch is served."

My stomach turned on itself. "I'll pass."

"I wasn't offering."

"Damon, I came here to see if you could help me."

He dragged a french fry through the messy mound of meat and cheese. "Isn't your brother-in-law a military strategist or something? This should be right up his alley."

I steepled my hands atop the table. "Jasper's solution was a little too permanent for my taste."

"Yeah?"

"He volunteered to do it, though Rosalie was just as eager."

"Ah, Rosalie..." Damon dragged out her name. "How is that blonde bombshell?"

"Still annoying and still with Emmett."

"Any chance they're on the rocks? Because I'd give up bourbon for a chance to get next to her."

"You couldn't handle Rosalie. She's not into the whole devil-may-care, I'm-too-good-for-everyone-around-me thing."

"I can change!" He grabbed a handful of fries and stuffed them in his mouth. "With the right motivation."

"Damon, can you help me or not?"

He held up a finger as he finished chewing, swiping his mouth with a cloth napkin. "Eddie, yours is a problem with many solutions. So the issue here isn't the girl. It's you."

"Me?"

"You could bed her, kill her, or go back to Denali and lose yourself in that tenacious snow queen who loves you so much."

My nostrils flared. "Those are not real options."

"They are if you're man enough to discover what you really want. Until then." He set the now empty glass on the counter. "You're stuck in the muck, Chuck."

 ***** PUNCH-DRUNK IN LOVE *****

I left the Boarding House that afternoon in a terrible mood. Even without the snark, Damon believed his preferred problem-solving methods would be useless.

"Compulsion won't work on someone immune to telepathy. And as for my carnal talents, I doubt you'd want me to use those." He wiggled his eyebrows. "Not if you want a shot at her somewhere down the line."

"Must everything be about sex with you?"

"Yes." He'd checked his reflection in the hall mirror as he headed toward the door. "Hence the next item on the morning's agenda. Elena Gilbert needs her daily dose of Damon."

"Isn't she your brother's girlfriend?"

"Right, again. Hence the added pleasure of getting on her nerves." He tossed his jacket over his shoulder, hooking it on one finger. "Don't wait up."

He did offer a guest room if I chose to stay in town, but I was so disappointed I couldn't think beyond the next few hours. Damon usually dealt with troublesome humans without the violence Jasper so deftly deployed, and without his help, I still lacked a solution that would keep Bella from harm and save my fading sanity. Alice, of course, would say she'd already offered me that solution several times, and I would remind her that changing Bella would only erode my sanity.

As if she felt my derision in Forks, my all-seeing sister chose that moment to call, and I rolled my eyes as I answered. "Alice."

"Edward?" The alarm in her voice brought me to a halt. "What are you planning?"

"Nothing. Why?"

"I just saw drastic changes ahead centered on your next decision."

"What decision? And what kind of changes?"

"I don't know!" She swore under her breath. "All I know is if you continue with your current plans, something could happen that will change our family forever."

I looked around. "It's an overcast day in Mystic Falls, so my only plan is to enjoy the weather."

"Are you thirsty?"

"No."

"Angry?"

"A little frustrated but no."

"Horny?"

"Alice!"

"I'm just trying to cover all bases. Whatever is about to happen is going to be huge, and if I can isolate the emotion leading up to it, then maybe we have a chance to..."

"Alice, stop. I have no plans or important decisions on the horizon, except choosing which of Damon's guest bathrooms to use upon my return to the mansion." I shuddered, thinking of the sensual debauchery he likely subjected them to. "I hope they've been recently sanitized."

"Edward, please..."

"Alice, I love you, but you worry too much. I'm fine, everything here is fine, and nothing terrible is going to happen."

She sighed, a sound of reluctant surrender. "Fine."

"Thank you."

"And you'll call me the minute something happens?"

"Not if you call me first."

I heard her attempt to smile. "And I love you too, Edward. Be safe."

I tucked the phone in my pocket, touched by her concern. Being a gifted immortal was usually more of a curse than a blessing, and my sister's cross was the heaviest in our clan to bear. Whenever calamity struck, Alice felt it more acutely, believing she could have prevented it had she been paying better attention.

But Bella Swan was slowly disabusing me of that notion, convincing me that no matter how gifted you were, life could always ruin your perfectly-laid plans...

...like the rapid dissipation of cloud cover on a suddenly bright day while a vampire who sparkles in the sun walks on an unfamiliar street in a strange town with nowhere to go to escape the sun's exposing rays.

Panic seized my heart such that I feared I might pass out. Damon told me vampires were common in Mystic Falls but not necessarily common knowledge.

"And if it's all the same to you," he'd said. "I'd like to keep it that way."

From the speed of those clouds sweeping across the sky, I had but seconds to hide before turning into a disco ball in the middle of town. And if Damon found out, I would never live down the humiliation.

Scanning the immediate area, I spotted a modest sedan with black tinted windows parked a few stores down. If I could get to it without causing a scene, perhaps I could stay there until the next wave of shade. Then I could hoof it to that bar and grill across the street until nightfall.

It wasn't a perfect plan, but it was all I had.

I smiled at a trio of ladies exiting the store in front of the car, muttering a quick prayer in hopes God was listening. Gripping the handle on the passenger side door, I opened it with ease and slipped inside the car just as the sun caught the heel of my shoe.

I closed the door and my frantic eyes, flooded with relief. I sank into the cool passenger seat and laid a hand upon my chest, grateful to have avoided making a scene.

As my breathing returned to normal, I gradually became aware of a heartbeat to my left.

A human heartbeat.

Immediately alarmed, I opened my eyes and turned slowly to that side of the car and found a pair of vibrant green eyes glaring at me.

Right before I caught a furious fist to the mouth.

My head reeled from the force of the blow, shocked not only that someone had successfully injured me, but more alarmingly by the fact that that someone was human.

A freakishly strong, violent-when-angry human.

I cupped the throbbing side of my face, blinking at her...because of course my assailant was a woman.

"What the hell are you doing in my car?" she barked.

I should have responded, should have offered any number of words preferable to the silence I'd chosen, but I was struck dumb—literally struck, literally dumb—in the face of such...

Her-ness.

(See? This was why I decided to be quiet. The look in her eyes told me she was in no mood for poetry, and I was fresh out of anything logical.)

"I will ask you again." She leaned forward, treating me to a new angle from which to admire the graceful curve of her neck. "What are you doing in my car?"

"How did you do that?" I finally managed to say.

"What?"

"How did you do that?"

"Do what?"

I stroked my wounded cheek. "Punch me?"

She smirked, and I realized my mistake too late.

She jabbed me again with the same fist, the blow slightly less deadly because I expected it. My teeth rattled, venom flooded my mouth, and my gaze darkened as it skimmed her body, searching for the aggressive appendage.

"Now if you've finished with your questions, I'd like to..." Her breath caught as I reached for her left hand and lifted it to eye level. "Wh-what are you doing?"

I cradled her warm flesh in my palm, turning it over to inspect the delicate brown skin, and was stunned by what I found.

No blemishes.

No bleeding.

No cuts or scrapes.

This woman punched me in the face—twice—without getting a scratch on her.

"Amazing," I breathed, examining her slender fingers one by one. "How is this possible?"

"What do you mean?"

I paused in my inspection, my gaze flicking to hers. There was no way to answer that question without disclosing the truth about myself. And before I could do that, I needed to know what she was thinking.

Keeping my gaze steady and hopefully neutral, I focused on locating her thoughts. Once they were found, I pushed gently against the walls of her mind...

...and felt as if my brain were being electrocuted.

I cried out, dropping her hand as if it was on fire, and clutched the sides of my head as the searing pain coursed through my mind. "What are you doing?"

"What are _you_ doing?" she shot back. "Why are you trying to poke around my head?"

"You can feel that?"

"Can you feel this?" Another shockwave of pain fried my brain, and I felt my eyes roll back in my head.

"What _are_ you?" I ground out.

"I should be asking you the same question!"

"Well I can't answer if you keep doing that!"

"Then stay out of my head."

"You stay out of head!"

And that's when my phone rang.

My attacker's gaze dropped to my pocket. "Don't even think about it."

"I have to."

"You want another lightning storm in your head?"

"No, but..." I looked up with pleading eyes. "My sister is clairvoyant and won't stop calling until she talks to me."

"I don't care if your sister walks on water while turning it into wine. You're not answering that phone until I get some answers."

The cheerful chiming continued, and between that noise, the latent throbbing in my brain, and my aggravating assailant, I was in desperate need of peace.

"Can I at least put it on silent? All this commotion is giving me a headache. Well, worsening the one you just gave me."

She narrowed her eyes. "You better not do anything else."

Holding her gaze, I reached into my pocket and turned off the phone, basking in the ensuing silence. "Thank you."

She leaned back against the driver's side door frame to face me. "Don't thank me yet."

 ***** PUNCH-DRUNK IN LOVE *****

My attacker sat patiently as I told my story, starting with Carlisle in 1918 and continuing through my arrival in Mystic Falls. She gave no visible reaction, and after my last attempt to read her mind, I decided ignorance was bliss.

But at the mention of Damon, she rolled her verdant eyes, their color heightened by annoyance.

"Why would you expect Damon Salvatore to be anything but obnoxious?" she asked.

"Our past dealings suggest he could prove surprisingly resourceful when inclined."

She snorted. "Or when it benefits him more than anyone else."

"I take it you don't like Damon?"

"That's an understatement. So if it's all the same to you, I'd rather not spend our time together talking about him."

 _Our time together._ I found myself liking the sound of that.

"Then let's talk about you." I turned slightly in my seat, hesitating when she angled her body away from mine. "Unless you plan on punching me again."

"Not at the moment."

"Then why do you seem uncomfortable?"

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe because some sparkling vampire just jumped into my car without warning or explanation and I'm still trying to decide what to do about it."

"Would you rather I stand in the town square and make a spectacle of myself?"

"I would rather you not be here at all." She smoothed a wrinkle in her pant leg. "Nothing good ever comes from new vampires coming to town."

The sadness in her voice broke my heart. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault."

"But something could be...if I stay." I looked out the window, noting the cloud cover had returned. "The sun is hiding again, so I'll go. Forgive me for troubling you."

"Wait." She grabbed my wrist, the soothing heat from her touch warming me from the inside out. "You came here to save a young girl's life. The least I can do is try to help."

"You don't have to do that."

"Yes, I do. It's why I was born gifted: to save humans from the dangers of the supernatural world."

"Is that what you call yourself? Gifted?"

"No." The corner of her mouth quirked up. "I call myself Bonnie Bennett."

"Bonnie Bennett." I smiled in return. "I am Edward Cullen."

"It's nice to meet you," she said, noticing her hand still rested on my arm and removing it.

The loss of her touch physically wounded me, which struck me as incredibly strange. "Are you a witch?"

"What I can do doesn't involve sorcery or evil spirits. My Grams just told me, 'You have special gifts, Bonnie. And when the time comes, you'll know what they are and how to use them.' So it's not like I study or practice or anything. I just focus on the problem and suddenly know what to do."

"Like when a vampire jumps into your car, you know to punch him in the face."

"Or when he tries to penetrate my mind, I know to make him wish he were dead."

"But he's already dead."

She snorted. "That was a terrible joke."

"Good thing you didn't laugh."

Her eyes sparkled with merriment, and I was gratified to be the reason why.

"So...Bella Swan."

The subject change was so abrupt I got emotional whiplash. "What?"

"Bella Swan? The girl whose life you came all this way to save?" She raised an eyebrow. "Did you make all that up?"

"No, of course not."

"Really? Because you seemed to have forgotten all about her."

And the crazy part was she was right. For the first time in months, I'd completely forgotten Isabella Swan existed.

All because of this gorgeous gifted woman who slugged me for jumping into her car uninvited.

"Edward?"

"Hmm?"

"What about Bella Swan?"

"Right." I rubbed my palms on my pants, trying to remember my purpose in coming to Mystic Falls. "I, uh, I don't want to hurt her nor do I want to accidentally encourage her interest in me."

"Accidentally?"

"Yes. Vampires have an allure, an aura that attracts humans so we can more easily get...um, that is, in order to get their..."

She held up a hand. "Got the picture, thanks."

"Right. And I wouldn't want Bella falling prey to that and mistaking it for something else."

"Are you sure about that?"

"What do you mean?"

She ran flattened fingertips around the steering wheel. "Would her attraction really be about your allure and nothing else?"

"What else would it be about?"

She clicked her tongue. "Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Pretend not to know how insanely attractive you are. It's worse than Damon's 'I'm-God's-gift-to-womankind' routine because at least he's being honest about his self-perception."

My brows furrowed as I picked my way through her logic. Then, in a flash of clarity, I understood what she seemed to be saying. And I turned to face her.

"You think I'm attractive?"

She looked out the window. "Let's just talk about something else."

"No." I laid my hand atop hers, hoping the urge to punch me didn't return. "I'm not trying to trick you in complimenting me. I just…I honestly cannot fathom anyone finding me attractive or in any way desirable without the aid of my supernatural allure, and hearing you suggest otherwise is...surprising."

She didn't say anything, and I too fell silent, fearing I'd said too much.

"Let's say Bella Swan was interested in you," she said at length. "Why would that be a bad thing?"

"Didn't you just say vampires cause nothing but trouble?"

"Yes, but my best friend is dating a vampire and doing just fine. Well, aside from being the doppelganger of a raging psychopath."

"What?"

"The point is Stefan being a vampire hasn't prevented him from dating Elena. Why should things be different for you?"

"Because I'm a different breed of vampire. Whether by genetic mutation or the whim of the universe, I'm not the kind who easily mates with humans."

Bonnie looked at me. "What if we could change that?

 ***** PUNCH-DRUNK IN LOVE *****

Bonnie drove at an alarmingly fast pace to a quaint cottage on the edge of town. She cut the engine, peering through the windshield.

"The sun's still pretty bright." She frowned. "And I don't know if anyone is home next door."

"Hold on." I gave a quick listen and heard raucous laughter in one room, urgent whispering in another. "They're otherwise occupied."

Bonnie looked as if she wanted to ask for details but seemed to change her mind as she opened the car door. "I'm inviting you in, so just come in when it's safe."

I nodded, and Bonnie walked in front of the car and up her porch stairs, leaving the front door open. I blinked out of the trance the sway of her hips cast on my mind and blurred into the house shortly thereafter, landing in a homey living room with classic, comfy furnishings. Pictures of a kind-eyed woman peppered the walls and tables, and I noticed her faint resemblance to Bonnie.

"That was my Grams." Bonnie sank into one of the cushy chairs. "She died last year."

"I'm sorry." I felt her lingering grief and remembered something. "Vampire?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes. So let's focus on you."

"Are you sure?"

She rolled her eyes. "Haven't we been through this before?"

"Yes. But I believe you have been through this before."

"Meaning what?"

"Whatever happened to your Grams…it seems rooted in a favor you felt reluctant but obligated to do for a vampire because it was the right thing to do. I don't want to risk an encore."

Bonnie toyed with her fingers. "It wasn't that simple."

"Do you...do you want to talk about it?"

"Not right now. But thanks for asking."

"You're welcome."

We sat in thickening silence, her green eyes studying my golden ones. I didn't know what she saw in them, but she suddenly jumped up with a clap of her hands. "So what are your greatest issues?"

"I'm sorry?"

"The parts of your vampirism that prevent you from being with Bella Swan."

"Oh, those."

"Are there others?"

"According to my sister Rosalie, those are just the beginning."

She plucked lint off the back of a chair. "She sounds like a real peach."

"She is but with good reason. It took her a long time to make peace with her immortal life, and she abhors anything who poses a threat to that life."

Bonnie nodded thoughtfully. "And Bella Swan is a threat."

"She's more than a threat." I reclined against the sofa. "She's young and human and blissfully unaware of the supernatural world around her and..."

"You don't want her giving that up for you." Bonnie met my gaze, and I was touched by the lack of censure in her eyes. "Not when you're still wrestling with what you are."

I palmed the back of my neck. "Are you sure you aren't telepathic?"

"I just have a gift for reading people."

"Another gift? So what does your gift tell you about me?" Her smile faded a bit, and I was immediately sorry for asking the question. "You don't have to answer that."

"No, it's okay. I just don't want to upset you."

"But I asked, so the answer's on me."

"If you say so." She faced me with nervous eyes. "My gift tells me that you have so much to give, but you're terrified to let go."

I swallowed hard. "Of what?"

"The expectations of others, perfectionism, and the heavy guilt of your past." Her voice softened. "You think you don't deserve to be happy, so you convince yourself it's impossible. Then you convince yourself it's better that way so the loneliness won't hurt so much."

I clenched my fists in my lap, feeling the rage creep into my vein. Not because she was wrong, but because she was more right than she had any right to be.

To her credit, Bonnie didn't shrink from my reaction. She grabbed a throw pillow and clutched it to her chest as she sank in the chair beside me.

"My Grams didn't believe in meddling in other people's problems," she began slowly. "Said figuring it out for themselves was the only way they would learn. But Damon wanted Katherine, Stefan wanted Damon to leave town, and Elena realized Damon wouldn't leave without Katherine. So my Grams decided to help Damon get Katherine back."

I didn't know anything about Katherine or understand why Grams' help would have been needed to get her back, but something told me that was all beside the point.

"I wanted to refuse," Bonnie continued. "Knew Grams and I should have stayed out of it. But in my heart of hearts, I was afraid that if I didn't help, I would cease to matter."

I was almost afraid to ask. "To Damon?"

"No. Well, yes. To any of them: Elena, Stefan, or Damon. Elena was my best friend, but Stefan's arrival turned our lives upside down. Suddenly Elena is a doppelganger for Katherine and the center of this never-ending supernatural saga, and as a fairly ordinary human, she has no power to deal with any of it."

"But her best friend is gifted."

"Yes. And what kind of friend would I be if I didn't do everything I could to help her? What's the point of my gifts if they don't benefit anyone else?"

"But using your gifts shouldn't have cost you your Grams," I murmured.

"No." She looked up at me. "And wanting Bella Swan shouldn't make you feel guilty."

I couldn't hold her gaze, so I studied my hands where they were folded tightly in my lap. "I don't...I don't know if I 'want' her. I mean, I'm fascinated by her and curious about her but..."

"But what?"

"I don't think it's 'her' per se."

"Is it the allure of her blood?"

"Partly. I mean, she is my singer. But I think it's also the inability to read her mind. The peace of that silence is…" I looked up at Bonnie. "Intoxicating."

"Oh. Well." She tucked her hair behind her ears. "If you wanted to be with Bella, which issues would get in the way?"

"Most of them I can't change—my strength, bloodlust, venom, or even the feel and temperature of my skin."

"Yeah," Bonnie sighed. "I think you're stuck with those things."

"But they wouldn't be so bad if I could at least pretend to be human. If I could I eat and sleep, maybe I would feel normal."

"That makes sense. Stefan does those things with Elena, which basically makes him a vampire who can pass for human."

"Yeah. And I sparkle in the sun."

Bonnie tilted her head. "You sure do."

She popped up from the chair again and rummaged through a drawer in the bureau in the hallway. Muttering a curse under her breath, she went to the next drawer, continuing the ruckus.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"You'll see. A-ha!" She held up a triumphant fist, closing the drawer with her hip. Practically skipping back to me, she sat beside me on the couch and opened her hand.

"A ring?" I peered at the textured pewter band with the huge onyx in the center. "How will that help?"

"The vampires I know wear rings that let them walk around safely in sunlight. I'm going to give you the same freedom."

My eyes widened. "You can do that?"

"I can try."

Bonnie looked around, making a rhythmic clicking noise in her cheeks. "Is that part of the process?" I asked.

"What? Oh, no. I think better when I do that. Grams used to say I was just allergic to silence."

"Sounds like my brother Emmett. If he's not whistling or humming, he's tapping his paw-like hands on a table. It drives Esme crazy."

Bonnie chuckled. "You've sure got a crazy mix of personalities up there in Forks."

"Yeah." I ran my hand along the arm of the couch. "It's nice."

"You don't sound too happy about it."

"No, I am. But I'm the only unmated one. So as much as I love my family and as much as they try not to leave me out, I never feel fully at ease with them."

"I know what you mean. Elena and Caroline are awesome best friends, but they've always got boy drama going on. And though I pretend to think it's all stupid, I sometimes wish a boy would bring some drama into my life."

When I didn't reply, Bonnie looked up and found me watching her. "I guess today is your lucky day."

"Yeah." A slow smile spread across her face. "I guess it is."

 ***** PUNCH-DRUNK *****

Bonnie decided there was only one way to make this ring. And when she told me what it was, I decided she'd lost her mind.

"You want to enchant the ring while I'm standing in the sun wearing it?" I cried. "What if it doesn't work?"

"You're fast enough to get out of sight before anyone notices. And if need be, I can ask Damon to compel everyone to forget what they saw."

"I thought you didn't like Damon."

"I don't. But his obsession with Katherine killed my Grams, and he owes me."

Bonnie marched us outside to the covered porch, and I peeked up at the sun partially hidden behind a cloud. To my surprise, my phone hadn't buzzed since that moment in Bonnie's car, and I wondered why Alice was suddenly silent.

"Okay." Bonnie gave me the ring to put on my right middle finger. "We'll stand in the sun, and I will command the ring to do its work."

I tried to look confident. "If you say so."

"Looks like that cloud is getting ready to move. Let's go." When I hesitated, she turned to me. "Are you always this afraid to take risks?"

"Afraid to let go, remember?"

"Yes, I remember." She pursed her lips and held out her hand. "So this time, we'll let go together. Come on."

I accepted her left hand, stroking its smooth knuckles. "Still can't believe you punched me with this."

She grinned. "And don't you forget it."

We went down the stairs hand-in-hand, the yard around us brightening as the cloud moved out of sight. Our excited eyes met as Bonnie lifted my right hand, cradling it in her cupped palms. I felt the sun on my body and shut my eyes as Bonnie spoke.

"Shining sun do no harm to Edward's shimmered skin. Let this ring absorb your rays and keep them safe within."

A ferocious heat flooded the ring, and I winced against its strength. But when Bonnie finished speaking, the white-hot feeling stopped. The pressure around my finger receded, and I waited for something else to happen.

"Edward?"

"Yes?"

"Open your eyes."

I slowly did as she asked—almost afraid to look—and was stunned by what I saw.

The sun's golden rays bounced boldly off of the hood of Bonnie's car, the mirrored tile in Grams' modest garden, and the gold bracelet on Bonnie's slender wrist. But when I took a broader view of Bonnie's wrist, I saw no glittering reflections of immortal light.

Because her arm bore no evidence of her physical proximity to me.

Because for the first time in my life, my skin didn't sparkle in the sun.

I held out my hands with a gasp, turning them this way and that, marveling at the feel of the sun on my skin. The last time I'd indulged the privilege was years ago on Isle Esme during our first family vacation after Alice and Jasper joined us. Though the seminal moment was beautiful, I hadn't enjoyed it like I was enjoying this.

"I guess it worked," Bonnie said.

And with one glance, I realized why soaking up the sun on Isle Esme hadn't compared to standing in Grams' small front yard in Mystic Falls.

I'd had no one to share my moment with.

"Bonnie Bennett!" I scooped her up in my arms, twirling her around. "You green-eyed goddess!"

She laughed above me, her head thrown back, revealing her exquisite neck. The joy on her face beautifully reflected mine, and as I set her on the ground, I couldn't look away.

"You did it." I stared at her breathlessly. "You actually did it."

"I guess so."

"Do you understand what this means?"

"Well..." A snarky smile tugged at her mouth. "For starters, you don't have to jump in strangers' cars anymore."

"Oh, I don't know. Seemed to work out pretty well the first time."

Bonnie's smile softened, and I marveled at the way the sun highlighted the faint blush on her cheeks. "Aside from getting punched in the face twice."

I stepped closer to her, noting the hitch in her breathing. "You have changed my life, Bonnie. The ability to walk around in the sun has literally opened up the world to me. I haven't had this kind of freedom since I was human."

"I'm glad I could help."

I took her hands, raising them to my lips. "Thank you for wanting to."

Her green eyes darkened. "Thank you for trusting me."

"Well, isn't this nice?" came a voice from behind us.

Bonnie's expression soured, and she pulled her hands away. I felt the loss immediately and turned to frown at our visitor. "Hello, Damon."

"Rather lackluster greeting for your best friend in Mystic Falls, Edward." Damon grinned at the woman behind me. "Though from what I see, that title may have just changed hands."

Bonnie surprised me by stepping in front of me. "What do you want?"

"Who says I want anything?"

She folded her arms. "Precedent."

"Bon-Bon, I'm hurt. I thought we'd moved past our differences."

"We will never be 'past' what happened to my Grams."

"Bonnie, I would never..." He had the grace to look chagrined. "That's not what I meant."

Bonnie looked at me. "I'm going inside. I'll see you in a minute."

"Okay." I watched her walk away, turning back to Damon once Bonnie closed the door behind her. "Why are you here?"

"Elena kicked me out." He toed the ground with his boot. "She wanted to be alone with Stefan and didn't take kindly to my attempts to get in the way. Caroline still hates me, and I'm doing everything in my power to avoid Katherine."

"So you came to see Bonnie? From what I understand, the two of you are not friends."

"No, we aren't." Damon raised an eyebrow. "And just where did you get your understanding?"

"That doesn't matter."

"Oh, I think it does." He looked past me to the house. "Especially when the person who gave you that understanding plays her cards very close to her very appealing chest."

A low growl erupted in my chest. "Don't objectify Bonnie like that."

"Not objectification. Appreciation."

"Either way, Bonnie doesn't care for you and..."

Damon arched a brow. "And?"

"And if she doesn't want you here, then maybe you should leave."

"Will do." Damon walked backwards to his car. "Guess that takes care of that."

"What?"

"The little problem that brought you to Mystic Falls." He tipped his chin toward the house. "I think you've just found yourself a green-eyed distraction."

"Bonnie is not a distraction."

"Fine." Damon grinned. "The solution, then."

He left me staring after him as he drove away, and I stuffed my hands in my pockets. Damon Salvatore could be one of the most insufferable creatures on earth but never more so than when he was right. And as I turned to go back inside, the quickness in my step made me wonder if this was one of those times.

I closed the door behind me but didn't see Bonnie in the living room. I found her in the kitchen with a half-eaten chocolate cake in front of her. She tore into it with her fork, taking huge, aggressive bites. I pulled up a stool and sat beside her.

"He's gone," I said.

"I know," she mumbled around the cake in her mouth.

I watched her break off another mound of cake, this one with a dollop of dark frosting from the top. "Is that helping?"

"Not really. Kinda sad to eat alone." She looked up at me, a new light shining in her eyes. "Get a fork from that drawer."

I pulled out the first one I touched, and she shook her head. "That's a serving fork."

"I knew that."

"Sure you did." She inspected my second choice. "Hold this end, and I'll hold the other."

I did as she asked, hating the lone inch separating her hand from mine. Somehow in the past hour—had it really been just an hour?—my body had come to crave her touch, missing it whenever deprived.

How on earth was I ever going to return to Forks?

"Okay." Her voice broke me out of my reverie, and I tuned back in. "Bon appetit."

"I don't understand."

"I fixed your fork. Well, it's your fork now, anyway. So whenever you use it, whatever you eat will taste good and digest properly. I'll have to do the same for a spoon, knife, plate, and a cup. And some other things so you can decide to drink wine, coffee, and smoothies. Oh! And a bowl for soup and cereal." She finally paused for breath. "You'll have to use them whenever you eat, but you can blame that little quirk on a minor case of germaphobia."

When I didn't say anything, she frowned. "What's wrong?"

I blinked out of my trance, steeped in too many thoughts to name. "Nothing."

"Then dig in." She returned her attention to the plate between us. "Because this baby isn't gonna last long."

I carefully sliced my new fork into the cake, the icing curl around the tines as I lifted the chocolatey mound to my mouth. As the decadent sweetness exploded on my tongue, I closed my eyes and groaned. "This is amazing."

"Told ya."

I opened my eyes to stare at her. "You're amazing."

She snorted. "You're just high on chocolate and sunshine."

Damon's words came back to my mind, and I smiled.

 _I'm definitely high on something._

 ***** PUNCH-DRUNK IN LOVE *****

The sun shone high and bright as we exited Bonnie's car, and I glanced at my hands in wonder. "I still can't believe it."

"I'm sure it'll take a while to sink in." She adjusted the strap on her purse. "It's a big change."

"The biggest I've had in almost 100 years. How will I ever repay you?"

"You're springing for dinner."

I opened the door to the Mystic Grill. "That hardly seems a fair exchange."

She batted her lashes. "Wait until you see the bill."

We walked into the dimly lit restaurant and seated ourselves in a booth near the far wall. The atmosphere seemed pleasant enough, and Bonnie knew just about everyone well enough to nod in recognition. I noticed a few lingering stares at my companion, heard the questions and admiration in their minds, and nearly growled at them to take their minds off her.

Mine was uninterested in sharing the privilege.

We chose opposite sides of the booth, and I was briefly disappointed by the distance between us. Then I realized this arrangement would afford me an unobstructed view of her…and provide a legitimate reason for me to look at her all night…and defeat morphed into delight.

"What is that smile for?" she asked from across the table.

I spotted a plate of appetizers on a passing tray. "Just excited about my culinary options."

"Don't expect too much. It's the Mystic Grill not Emeril LaGasse's."

I met her eyes. "I'm excited just the same."

She looked around before smiling at me. "That makes two of us."

I leaned forward, resting my forearms on the table. "So do you come here often?"

She quirked an eyebrow. "Did you seriously just ask me that?"

"Yes. Why?"

She clamped her lips shut, poorly hiding her bemusement. "Nothing."

"No, what?"

Bonnie seemed to debate with herself then leaned in to whisper, "That is, like, _the_ cheesy pick-up line of all pick-up lines."

"Is it?"

She laughed. "Edward, be serious."

"I am."

"You've never heard anyone say that before in a bad made-for-TV movie or an corny 80s sitcom?"

"Can't say that I have."

"Wow." She folded her arms. "I don't know whether to be impressed or depressed."

"You honestly think I'd use a canned, cheesy line on you?"

"Canned cheese? Are we talking about food now?"

I smirked. "That was a terrible joke."

"Good thing you didn't laugh. Besides, I don't know you that well. You might think it worth your while to use a canned, cheesy line on me."

"After you gave me the ability to stand in the sun and enjoy food again?"

"Now you see why I'm offended."

"I do. But just to be clear, you're offended that the line was cheesy…not that I would try to pick you up?"

Bonne tried to keep a straight face, but her flaming cheeks wouldn't cooperate. "No comment."

Our eyes met again, and we let the moment take its sweet time to pass. As I prepared again to speak to her…this time without the help of canned cheese...a redheaded server waltzed toward our table. I tried to tune her out, but as her sexually assertive thoughts assaulted me, I grimaced.

"Welcome to the Mystic Grill," she drawled in my direction. "I'm Randi, and I'll be your server."

"Did you say you're Randi?" Bonnie asked.

Randi kept her gaze on me. "I sure am."

Bonnie snorted a laugh. "You said it not me."

Randi's thoughts froze in confusion, so she ignored Bonnie's comment. "So what do you need, handsome?"

I tried to remain polite. "A menu would be nice."

"My deepest apologies." Randi laid a hand against her chest, disappointed by my non-reaction. "I'd be happy to read it to you."

Bonnie snatched the menus from Randi's arms, and I shrugged as Randi gaped at her. "She doesn't like when people imply I'm illiterate," I said.

Randi frowned. "Is she your tutor or something?"

"That's one way of describing it," Bonnie said.

"And we're exclusive," I added. "So if anyone reads me anything, it's going to be her."

"That's fine with me." Randi licked her lips. "Because I'm sure I could find some way to be of personal service. You know, for the things she can't help you with."

I reached across the table for Bonnie's hand. "I don't think such things exist."

Bonnie didn't miss a beat and stroked the back of my hand. "Not yet anyway."

"So thank you, Randi," I said. "But I won't be needing your services."

Randi prepared a tart reply until she noticed the hungry horde of Mystic Falls High basketball players that came in. The varsity team was on a winning streak, and according to Randi's thoughts, the Lady Timberwolves tipped well.

She gave us a brief smile. "I'll be back for your orders in a minute."

Bonnie watched Randi leave. "Talk about living up to your name."

But my focus was otherwise occupied. "I could say the same for you."

She turned back to me, her eyes alight. "Are you calling me 'bonny'?"

"I believe you called yourself that, Miss Bennett." I cradled her hand in mine. "I am merely following my talented tutor's instructions."

"I suppose I can't fault you for that." Our hands remained entwined in the center of the table, but Bonnie's gaze drifted back toward Randi. "You could hear her thoughts, couldn't you?"

My scowl returned. "I'd rather not remember them, thank you."

"How does that work exactly? Is it like a radio where you have to catch the right frequency?"

"In a manner of speaking."

She nibbled her bottom lip. "Do you receive all thoughts with the same intensity?"

"The strongest are those I focus on and those focused on me. Even then I can block out most of them, but there's never complete silence."

"Because someone around you is always thinking." Bonnie drummed her fingers on the table, dislodging my grip in the process. "Someone around you is always...wait!"

"What?"

She lowered her voice. "Your gift works on living things. So what about another type of living thing? Like a plant?"

"A plant?"

"Yeah. Have you ever tried to read the mind of a plant?"

"Um, plants don't have minds."

"No, but they eat, breathe, and grow. So if you can read the minds of all living things, you should be able to read the mind of a plant."

I leaned back against the seat. "First I'd have to find its mind, and that would prove impossible."

Her green eyes flashed. "Exactly."

Scanning the room, I turned my mental dial toward the thirsty fern on the table behind the hostess stand, searching for its brain. And as I focused on the plant, the voices in my mind slowly faded from my hearing, leaving in their wake only a blessed white noise.

My mouth dropped open as I looked back at Bonnie, her smug grin belying the surprise in her eyes. "I'll be here all week," she said.

"Bonnie..."

"And don't forget to tip your waitress."

"Bonnie..."

"But be careful with Randi. I heard she bites."

I covered her hand with mine, and she gasped at the speed of the gesture. "Bonnie."

"Yes?"

"Do you know what you've done?"

Her heart raced in her chest, but she didn't look away. "Tell me."

"It's...it's what I imagine Heaven to be. Peace and comfort and tranquility and just..." I scoured my silent mind for the right word. "Bliss."

The wattage on her smile softened, and her hand relaxed in mine. "I'm glad."

"Let me see what happens if I..." I pulled away from the fern, and the flood of noise made me start in my seat. "Oh!"

Bonnie gripped my fingers. "Are you okay?"

I returned my focus to the plant, awash in the sweet totality of its silence. "Yes."

She studied my eyes. "You need to keep a living thing with you at all times."

"Logical but not terribly practical, I'm afraid."

"What about a mini cactus? You could put a small one in a leak-proof container in a shoulder bag just in case you're going somewhere that..." When I chuckled to myself, she stopped talking. "What?"

"A shoulder bag? Are you suggesting I carry a purse?"

"Are you suggesting your ancient manhood isn't strong enough to handle a purse?"

"My ancient manhood is plenty strong, thank you very much."

"Well, that's good to know."

The double meaning of our conversation then caught up to me, and my eyes widened. "Oh my god..."

Bonnie covered her face with both hands, giggling through my terrible attempts at clarification. The more I talked, the worse it got, and by the time Randi returned to our table, Bonnie practically shook with merriment.

"What's so funny?" Randi asked me.

I pinched the bridge of my nose. "You don't want to know."

 ***** PUNCH-DRUNK IN LOVE *****

After laughing her way through the ordering process, Bonnie finally calmed down when our appetizers arrived, her chuckles mellowing to muted smiles as I oohed and aahed over the simple, greasy fare of the Mystic Grill. We decided I could focus on bugs or bacteria, if needed, but she wouldn't fully relinquish the idea of me with a fun and frilly purse.

And I was content to let her laugh about the prospect all evening long.

She spent more time watching me stuff myself with onion rings, chicken wings, mini bacon cheeseburgers, and milkshakes than actually eating, so her take-home container was rather large.

"And I'm not sharing." She set the bag on her Grams' kitchen counter. "Special utensils or not."

"I don't think I have room for anything else." I patted my contentedly full stomach. "I probably won't need to eat for another three days."

"Is that how long blood keeps you sated?"

"More or less, depending on other factors."

"Like what?"

I watched her grab a sponge to clean up crumbs from the cake excavation. "Like how much energy I'm using to keep my emotions under control."

"Like anger or frustration?"

"Yes. Or when I'm fighting temptation."

I didn't mean for my voice to deepen, didn't force my eyes to darken. But that seemed to be the effect she had on me, and it was useless to pretend otherwise.

Bonnie didn't reply right away, turning to the sink to wring out the sponge. "You mean bloodlust?"

"That's, uh…that's one kind of temptation, yes."

She nodded absently, drying her hands on a towel. "Is that your current struggle?"

"No."

Her breathing hitched, and she swallowed hard. "I see."

I didn't know what to say next, and the silence thickened with tension. I mimicked her movements to quell the urge to touch her again, studying her from the safe side of the kitchen island. I was out of my depth in more ways than one, and I needed to calm down and not get carried away.

But the longer I watched her, the more impossible it became to ignore the swelling emotions being near her inspired. And as Bonnie ran an idle hand across her collarbone, I began to suspect she felt something too.

"It's getting late," she said softly, effectively changing the subject. "Have you decided what you want to do?"

What I wanted to do was blur around that counter, take her in my arms, and kiss her senseless. I wanted to feel those beautiful hands caressing my face and back and beyond. I wanted to experience things with Bonnie Bennett I'd never dared to imagine before.

But only if that's what she wanted too.

I noted the darkness through the kitchen window. "Damon invited me back to the mansion."

She chuckled without humor. "Boys night in?"

"He just wanted me to have a place to...well, to not sleep."

"You can't sleep," she said sadly. "I'm sorry."

"It is what it is."

"Edward, not being able to sleep...you never get to start over, to begin again. That must be maddening. And exhausting."

"It is. And yeah, I've thought about what it would be like to sleep again, but there's no point wasting time wanting what you can't have."

"A few hours ago, you couldn't walk in the sun or eat human food either."

"Yes, but what can you do? Give me a sleep-inducing pillow?"

"I could try."

"I appreciate you wanting to." I smiled softly. "But sleep is regulated by chemicals in the brain and body. I don't think a pillow can affect that."

"No." Hope shines in her eyes. "But I think I can."

"What do you mean?"

"I could feel you trying to poke around my brain." She came around to my side of the counter. "So I might be strong enough to override the silent signals in your brain and body."

"How?"

She pursed her lips, wiggling them back and forth. My gaze dropped to watch them, and I missed what she said next.

"I'm sorry, what?"

She folded her arms with amusement. "Am I boring you?"

"I don't think that's possible."

"Then pay attention. You can tell me how wonderful I am later."

"I'm going to hold you to that."

"Well, you can't hold anything from there." She passed me and went into the living room. "Come on."

I expected her to take a seat on the couch, but instead she locked the front door and turned off the lamp on the end table. She grabbed her purse from the chair and headed toward the stairs.

"Where are you going?"

"To my room." She paused with her hand on the railing. "Is something wrong?"

"I just... I'm surprised you'd let me come upstairs."

"Why?"

"A woman's room is a sacred place. And in my day, it was taboo for a gentleman to enter the bedroom of a woman who was not his wife."

"Wife?" Bonnie's laughter dispelled the awkwardness. "Are you suggesting we head to the courthouse to avoid a scandal?"

"If only it weren't already closed." I turned back toward the living room. "But though I appreciate the display of trust, I would be much more comfortable if we stayed down here."

"Fine. But I'm not sleeping on the floor." She grabbed two throw pillows from the sofa. "Help me with these."

I blurred to the couch and removed all the cushions in seconds. "Like that?"

She rolled her eyes. "Show-off."

I unfolded the sofa bed at human speed while she retrieved linens from a hope chest against the opposite wall. We faced the bare bed together, and I cleared my throat.

"Why don't I make the bed while you go..." I waved an idle hand toward the ceiling. "Do what you need to do."

"Sounds fair." She handed me the pile of sheets and blankets. "But the good pillow is mine."

I scanned the stack. "Which one is the good one?"

"Whichever one I choose."

I shook my head as she giggled her way upstairs, and I turned back to the bed, reminding myself of the wisdom in staying away from her bedroom. My attachment to Bonnie Bennett grew stronger by the moment, and I had no idea what to do about it.

I made the bed in a flash, fluffing all three pillows just in case. The linens smelled like vanilla, honey, and something warm and uniquely Bonnie. I stared at the bed, imagining her smooth brown skin against the creamy sheets, hair fanned behind her and green eyes watching me with dawning desire...

I shut down those thoughts, remembering I had no right to take such liberties, even in my imagination. Despite the milestones and magic, it has been but one day. Less than that, even. Would I really cast off my entire past for the chance to carve out an indeterminate future with her?

My fingers trembled with the memory of her hands in mine, and the answer roared to life within me.

"I don't hear anything," she yelled from the top of the stairs. "Are you okay down there?"

I forced myself to sound normal. "Are you spying on me?"

"Someone has to. Ideally with the patience to deal with your many idiosyncrasies!"

"And the strength to punch me in the face if necessary?"

"You said it not me."

She appeared on the landing wearing a simple black tank top, striped yoga pants, and a smile. With her hair wrapped in a scarf and her face free of the day's minimal makeup, she was so lovely I could have cried.

"Is that what you're sleeping in?" she asked as she descended the stairs. "That can hardly be comfortable."

"I didn't exactly bring luggage."

"Because you hadn't planned on staying." The finality in her voice brought me up short. "Right?"

I wanted to deny it but couldn't. When I arrived in Mystic Falls, I'd intended to find Damon and get him and his solution on the first plane to the west coast. But with one serendipitous shift of the sun, my plans changed.

Everything changed.

"At least take off your shoes," she murmured. By the time I came to, Bonnie was on the bed but not as I'd earlier imagined. "Don't want dirt on the sheets."

"Of course." I toed out of my shoes and removed my jacket and chambray shirt, leaving the short-sleeved tee underneath. Bonnie forced a smile as I scooted back on the bed, but her heart wasn't in it.

"Lie down," she commanded softly. I curled on my side, watching in muted awe as she lay down and faced me. "Close your eyes and give me access to your mind."

"How do I do that?"

She met my gaze. "Trust me."

With one longing look at her face, I closed my eyes and exhaled slowly.

"Don't think." Her whisper took on a hypnotic quality. "Don't try, don't force it. Just relax and let me in."

I had no idea how to do what she asked, but with my eyes closed, I gave myself over to the sultry vision I'd conjured up alone, this time joining Bonnie on the bed. In my fantasy, I placed my hand against her warm cheek, and she laid her palm atop mine. Her eyes shimmered with trust, and the longer I stared into them, the more relaxed I felt.

Fantasy Bonnie inched closer and closer to my face, her gaze flicking from my eyes to my mouth. And as she leaned in to kiss me, Fantasy Me closed his eyes too.

And everything went dark.

 ***** PUNCH-DRUNK IN LOVE *****

The next thing of which I became gradually aware was the softness beneath me, augmented by the cocoon of warmth around me.

Within me.

The down comforter atop my body made me feel safe, but I tossed it off, still marveling at the stillness in my soul. A bone-deep peace had settled into my ancient bones, and I felt so good...so unspeakably good...I could hardly describe it.

"Well, hello there." I opened my eyes in a flash and, turning onto my side, found a pair of soft green ones peering back at me. "Or should I say, 'good morning.'"

My eyes widened as I stared at her.

"Don't believe me?" she asked. "Look out the window."

Over her shoulder, I caught the view beyond the curtains and found the glorious sun shining once more, its bold rays of hope filling me with inexpressible joy.

Bonnie cleared her throat, dragging my attention back to her. "Soooo...how does it feel to wake up for the first time in almost 100 years?"

A thousand answers lined up behind my lips, yet I was unable to speak.

"Did you lose your voice somewhere in the night?" She pursed her lips. "You certainly snored loud enough."

She chuckled at her own joke, but her laughter dissipated when I didn't join in. "Is something wrong?"

I shook my head once.

"Then what's going on?"

My gaze ghosted over her perfect face, and I laid my hand against her cheek. As Bonnie relaxed into my touch, I stroked her soft skin, and before I could overthink it, I pressed my lips to hers.

And, thank God, she didn't punch me.

Bonnie sighed against my mouth, her full lips yielding beneath my tender kiss. She inched closer, running her fingers through my hair, and I parted my lips to taste her more. Her seeking tongue lapped against mine, and the heat of her mouth set my frozen soul ablaze.

Curling my hand around her hip, I brought her body flush against mine, my hands sliding up her back as she tilted her head once more. Her scarf must have come off sometime during the night, and her hair tickled my fingers as I teased the delicate skin at the nape of her neck. My lips left hers to trail down her gorgeous neck, nipping and licking her fragrant skin as she came alive in my arms.

I dragged hungry lips across her collarbone before returning to her sensual mouth. She cupped my face with soft moans, and I was awed by her need to take control. She tossed her leg over my hip as my hand slid around her back to cup her bottom, and the intimate contact made me gasp.

It also made Bonnie nervous, apparently, for she pushed me away, scrambling off the bed. "No."

My arms and lips ached with the sudden loss, but I kept my tone even. "What's wrong?"

"We can't do this."

"Do what?"

She angled her head toward the bed. "That."

"Whatever 'that' was, Bonnie," I said gently. "Surely you can't deny wanting it, too."

"That doesn't change anything."

I sat up and folded my hands. "I don't understand."

"Look." She ran her hands through her now-messy hair. "You're grateful and excited about the new possibilities with Bella Swan. I mean, that's why you came here, right? To solve the Bella problem?"

"Yes, but I've..."

"And I helped you do that, so it makes sense that you'd confuse gratitude for..." She waved her hand between us. "This."

"That's not what this is."

"Okay, so maybe you find me attractive..."

"Maybe?"

"...and interesting. But let's not turn this into something it's not, especially when you're going back to Forks to be with..."

"Who says I'm going back?"

The words surprised me, but as they echoed in the silence, I realized they were true.

So I said them again.

"Who says I'm going back?" Bonnie lips moved without sound, and I climbed off the bed, approaching her slowly. "I'm a vampire, Bonnie. I don't have to stay in school or report to a job or keep any commitments I do not choose. And the only commitment I want to choose is you."

"That's just gratitude."

"No, it's not."

"How could it be more? We've known each other less than a day."

I kissed her again, slower this time, and Bonnie melted into me, her tender heart racing in her chest. "Do you feel that?" I murmured against her mouth.

She pulled back. "That's just chemistry."

"Chemistry, gratitude, fascination, admiration. Bonnie..." I stroked her cheek with the back of my hand. "What do they become when you put them together?"

"I just...I don't want us getting caught up in something that isn't real."

"Your Grams said you would know what to do when the time came, and just because you wanted to, you changed my entire life. Last night, you crawled inside my crowded head and gave me a gift no one in my family has ever had. Your touch literally warms my frozen skin and makes me feel alive again. How can all of that not be real?"

"Because no one gives up their loved ones for me." She looked at the floor. "I'm always the one who loses out or gets left behind."

"Not this time." I tipped up her chin. "Not with me."

She snorted. "So you'll leave your family?"

"Yes."

"You... are you saying you'd leave Forks?"

"Yes."

"And move to Mystic Falls?"

"Yes."

"To do what?"

"Whatever I want." I laced our fingers together. "Thanks to you."

"But what happens when I get old?"

The question stunned me into brief silence, but I was determined and high on hope.

"That's a long way off," I said softly. "But if you can control my body with your mind, sharing my immortal life force shouldn't be too hard."

She sniffled. "You're crazy."

"About you."

"And you think this life-sharing technique will work?"

I placed our entwined hands against my heart. "I think when the time comes, you'll know what to do."

Her bottom lip quivered as she studied me, and I laid myself bare for inspection. Whatever happened next would be entirely her choice, and I held my needless breath as she made it, praying I would survive the decision.

"Edward?"

"Yes, Bonnie?"

"I want you to go back to Forks."

My heart sank into the pit of my stomach, and I closed my eyes to hide my reaction. She'd made her choice, and though it pained me to leave her, I would respect her decision.

"Okay." I opened my eyes and tried to smile. "If that's what you want."

"I don't want you leaving them in a phone call," she said. "You should tell them face-to-face."

Understanding rose in my mind, and my grip on her hands tightened. "You want me to go back?"

"Yes."

"But only to give them a proper goodbye?"

"Yes."

"Because you...you want me to stay with you?"

"Yes." She smiled tenderly. "I want you to stay with me."

She'd barely finished her sentence when I cupped her face and kissed her again, elation and excitement coursing through my veins like the fires of my change. And this change was just as significant, just as life-altering.

For in Bonnie's arms, I was reborn.

When at last I let her come up for air, Bonnie stroked my cool cheek. "Edward?"

"Yes, Bonnie?"

"Thank you for breaking into my car."

I raised her left hand to my lips, kissing its knuckles. "Thank you for punching me in the face."

 ***** PUNCH-DRUNK IN LOVE *****

So that's how we got here, more or less. Bonnie punched me in the face, changed my life one decision at a time, and let me come to stay with her in Mystic Falls.

Eventually.

It shouldn't surprise you that she made me keep my word to return to Forks and break the news to my family face-to-face. Alice already knew, but she wisely kept the information to herself until I could speak to Carlisle. He took it quite well, better than I would have expected, actually, and Esme was just glad to see me happy. To my surprise, everyone congratulated me and wished me well.

Oh. Almost everyone.

"How can you just leave?" Rosalie stormed into my room after our family meeting. "How can you just give us up for this Bonnie Bennett?"

At first, I just blinked at her, utterly flummoxed by her reaction. She was quite literally the last person I expected to care that I was leaving, and here she was, berating me for the choice.

"Is this about Bella Swan?" she continued through my silence. "Because if you want me to accept her, I will. I don't think she's right for you, but if it'll make you stay, I'll be nice to her."

"This isn't about Bella. Though if not for her, I never would have gone to Mystic Falls and wouldn't have met Bonnie in the first place. So in a way, my fascination with her led me here."

Rosalie shook her head. "I can't believe you're doing this to me."

She winced, confirming she hadn't meant to say that aloud, and I chose my next words carefully. "What exactly am I doing to you, Rose?"

"You're taking my sanity away," she mumbled. "You're the only one who lets me rage and roar the way I need to. Emmett doesn't fully understand, Jasper and Alice avoid it before it happens, and Carlisle and Esme are...Carlisle and Esme. Arguing with you is second nature to me, as essential to my existence as blood and Emmett. And if you take that away, I'm afraid of what might happen, of who I might become without that outlet for all my...you know..."

"I do know." Rosalie and I may have failed as possible paramours, but we saw each other at our worst during the first two years of her life. Only Carlisle and Esme actually bore witness to the pain we carried in those days, and thought we never found solace (or open sympathy) in each other, each of us knew where the other's scars were hidden.

And apparently, arguing with me was Rosalie's most effective way to keep that pain at bay.

"You're a lot stronger than you think," I said after a moment. "You were strong enough to kill Royce without drinking his blood, strong enough to carry a bleeding Emmett back to Carlisle to save him, and strong enough not to strangle Alice when she insists you on talking to you about those reality shows she's obsessed with. You'll be fine without me."

Rosalie wrapped her arms around herself. "Guess I don't have a choice."

"Not really, no. Unless you want to move to Mystic Falls."

"The same town as Damon Salvatore?" She shook her head. "No, thank you."

"Now you sound like Bonnie."

"I hope she knows how lucky she is to have you. I couldn't let you go for less."

"She does."

"Good. Soooo...does this mean I can kill Bella?"

"You can...but you shouldn't."

"Spoil sport." Rosalie stared at me then kissed my cheek so fast I thought I imagined it. "Be well, Edward."

I laid a hand against my cheek as my first sister blurred from the room. Securing her blessing had been an unexpected necessity, and with that task complete, I called Bonnie, asking if I could come back to her now.

"'Begging' is more like it." She sashays into the room, snapping me out of my memories. "It was really sad."

"So why did you let me come back?"

"Because I spent a lot of energy changing your life. And I wanted to make sure I hadn't wasted my time."

"So you were just protecting your investment?"

She bends to kiss me. "Precisely."

What starts as something innocent and light quickly swells into a passionate push and pull, and I grip the sides of my chair to keep from tumbling to the ground.

"Were you finished your story?" she asks at length.

"Almost." I grind out as she peppers kisses on my neck. "I hadn't told them about Damon and Leah Clearwater."

"Oh, yeah." She chuckles. "That's what he gets for following us to Forks."

For the first time in Quileute history, not only did a female wolf imprint on someone, but she imprinted on a vampire. And the most disturbing part was that Damon was in love with her too. He was attracted to her blind devotion, of course, but her spunk and bravery in defying her clan caused his interest to morph into full-on intoxication.

Harry and Sue were beside themselves with outrage, and elders from all over the country had to be consulted. Ultimately, after a full year of tense talks, Leah was given permission to leave the reservation for good, and she has been with Damon ever since.

They got married thirteen years ago—one month after her emancipation and two years before Bonnie and me. Our wedding took place in Mystic Falls in the fall, and my entire family wore daylight rings courtesy of my beautiful bride. Alice and Esme cried tearlessly the whole time, and when Bonnie finally said "I do," I thought I would burst with happiness.

"Has it really been eleven years?" Bonnie comes to sit on my lap. "It feels much longer."

I caress her smooth brown legs. "Is that good or bad?"

"It's excellent. Because it means I can hardly remember a time before you broke into my car."

"Speaking of which." I cinch my hands around her waist. "You never told me why you were just sitting there that day."

"I didn't? Oh." She looks down. "Well, I'd just had brunch with Caroline and was about to head home when a voice inside me said, 'If you stay where you are, you will come face-to-face with your fate."

My eyes widen. "Really?"

"Yeah. I'd heard the voice only a few times in my life and always listened when it spoke. I'd been sitting there for an hour waiting for something to happen when you jumped into my car."

"Oh. But wait. If you were waiting for me, why did you punch me in the face?"

"I have no idea." She shakes her head with a small chuckle. "But aren't you glad I did?"

"Yeah." I raise her left hand, marveling at the telling ring on its third finger. "I think I am."

* * *

 **What'd you think of my first ever Bonward story? Let me know!**

 **Thanks for reading! XO**


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